Finaly Found
by jellybean88
Summary: They told him it was pointless; that he'd never come back. But Draco Malfoy didn't want to hear it. Because he knew the moment he let the words seep in, he'd believe them and then it would be truly over.


_A/N: My laptop gave up the ghost a few weeks ago. So until I can get it running long enough to get my stories onto a flash drive, I'm afraid this little tidbit will have to hold you over. My apologies to those that are reading Dirty Little Secret. I'll try to get the story off the laptop as soon as I can._

Finally Found

They told him it was pointless. That it was too late, that he'd never come back. That it was over. But Draco Malfoy didn't want to hear it; couldn't hear it. Because he knew the moment he let the words seep in, he'd believe them and then it would be truly over. And that thought, above everything else, he couldn't bear.

The blonde stretched his winkled map out on the sticky table of the bar and put down another red dot. The point of another sighting, of another change of finding him. Draco pressed his thumb against the last dot he had placed and his index finger into the new one. The distance from him to Potter was only finger-lengths from what he could see. But there were rivers, farms, and state lines between them, and Draco knew the distance was much greater.

The laughter of the drunken people around him penetrated through his brooding silence and he waved his mug at the bartender to get a refill. It was only black coffee, but it would give his hands something to hold onto while he stared at the map, full of red dots, hoping it would finally give him the answer he had been searching for for the last two years.

"Looks like you're hunting something down," the elderly man said with a kind smile as he poured the dark liquid into Draco's mug.

"Something like that," Draco replied. cold hands curling around the warming ceramic.

"That's a very strange pattern," the man continued, meaning the red dots. "Like something doesn't know where it's going either. Well," he man clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I wish you best of luck my boy." The blonde only nodded.

As he sat there, sipping at his coffee he looked over the dots and couldn't help but agree with the old man. There was no sense of direction in the mass of redness. They were scattered about American and Britain like someone had splattered paint on the map. Potter wouldn't move around in such a frantic matter. _But it's never Harry, now is it?_ said the dark voice inside that Draco had steadily ignored since starting this quest. With a shake of his head he pushed the voice away again, not wanting to even touch down on that thought. Of course the voice was right; it was never Potter, only men that looked like him.

He let the conversations of the people wash over him, most of their voices turning into just noise as he fondly remembered the other man. They had only really found each other a few months before the final battle. And then, just like that, Potter was gone. Draco closed his eyes tightly, replaying the man's last words over for the millionth time, just so he wouldn't forget what his voice sounded like.

Finally he finished his coffee and rose from his seat, folded his map back up and left the bar.

OoOoO

A blond man thumped his boots against the door mat of the bar, knocking the snow from them before he entered all the way. He hung his coat and hat up and made his way to a table in the back. Draco sat there for a while, staring at his gray and green stripped mittens. It had been another fruitless day, in another fruitless month. This time he man hadn't even looked like Potter. The blonde clenched his hands into fists. He felt like screaming. And despite the warmth the spelled mittens gave him, Draco felt frozen inside.

Someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder and he jerked his head around, startled. A pretty ginger woman stood there, coffee pot and two mugs in hand. "Looks like you could use something to warm you up." she said as she slid into the chair oppose Draco. When he said nothing about the intrusion she simply shrugged and poured coffee into both mugs. She made no move to leave. Instead she looked at Draco's map, which he had dropped on the table the instant he sat down. She traced an invisible line between the last two dots an the blonde had to struggle not to snatch the map away from her finger. "You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?" she asked.

Draco drew back, confused. While he was by no means anonymous in the wizarding community, he was currently in a muggle town in America. Being recognized by a muggle was strange to say the least.

The woman smiled slightly. "My cousin, Hermione Granger, told me that someone she knew was running around America searching for Harry Potter." She sipped at he coffee and added. "I'm sorry you haven't found him yet."

The blonde made a strangled noise in the back of his throat that could have been a bitter laugh. He wanted to tell Grangers cousin to get lost, to leave him alone. But he was so very tired. "Yeah," he croaked, leaning forward to wrap his hands around the cup. "Me too."

They sat in comfortable silence for a long time before Draco opened his mouth again. "He told me he would be right back," he said. "He said 'I'll come back and then we can get out of here, I promise.' " Draco wasn't sure why he was telling the woman all this. But it was like a flood gate had opened and he simply couldn't stop. "But he didn't. When everything was said and done he was the only one that didn't walk out of that damned school. Harry was just gone. Like someone had apparated him away without anyone noticing. The Ministry couldn't even trace his magic." His voice started to tremble and his hands clenched around the mug. "And then people stopped looking. After everything Harry had done for us, the muggles, the world, they just stopped. It's like they didn't care what happened to him. Like they didn't believe he was s till alive. But I know he is. He has to be." A single tear slid down Draco's cheek; the first he had allowed to fall since Harry's vanishing. "He promised."

OoOoOo

With the letter to Grangers cousin in the mail, Draco walked the short distance to his job at the local bar. He and Hadley wrote to each other at least bi-weekly and he was already ad week late. His boss gave him a disapproving look as the blonde showed up five minutes late, again. It was a bad habit he had gotten into, but Mr. Fanion never said anything about it. Instead he's dock money from Draco's pay that was always magically replaced by "tips" even when there were no customers around.

The ever present map was tugged into the back pockets of Draco's trousers as he worked, riddled with so many red dots that it was hard to make out the names of the distant places they covered. Tape covered the creases where it had torn and rubbed away print marked cold coffee spots.

The bar was busy tonight and the young wizard welcome the distraction of the drunken men laughing, discussing the latest news, and finding flaws in science. He didn't want to think about his latest trip, and how useless it had turned out to be. The only thing he had gained was a cold and another red dot for his map.

"Oi, Dray c'mere a min would cha?" drawled one of the regulars, waving a beefy hand in the air.

Draco rolled his yes but approached the large man anyways. "What now Dough?"

"This fine gen'leman here would like ta take you on a date," Doug hiccuped, grinning at Draco like a Cheshire cat.

Gray eyes landed on brilliant green and the breath hitched in Draco's thread. His heart gave a tiny flutter of hope, but was crushed when he looked away from the eyes to take in the whole man. He was handsome and young, but he was just a stranger. Draco smiled at the man and said, "I appreciate it, but I'll have to decline your offer."

"Whats da matter Draco? He not yer type?" Doug slurred.

"Something like that."

Draco nodded a good-bye to the table at large and turned to leave when a hand blindly reached out to stop him. The intended target was one of the belt loops, but the hand missed and grabbed the end of Draco's map instead. It ripped in half part way before coming out of the back pocket completely; the sound tearing into Draco's heart. He whirled around wide eyed to stare at Doug who blinked at the paper in his hand.

"Wha's this? Why you carryin' this wichu Dray?"

"That's none of your damn business, Doug. Now give it back," Draco snarled, reaching forward.

But the other man only snorted and said, "Whatever. You 'ont need this. Wha' ya need is a drink with us." And with that he bunched the old map together and tossed it into the fire place.

Time slowed to a near crawl as Draco watched his map arch in the air. His limbs felt like they were weighed down and no matter how hard he tired, he couldn't get his legs to move fast enough to get to the bundle before it hit the flames. Draco dropped to his knees and tried to fish the map out, jerking his hand back each time the fire licked at his skin. Finally he managed to grab a corner and pulled his hand back quickly, his other hand already frantically patting away at the smoldering edges. But as tear filled eyes scanned the bit of saved map, Draco realized with growing dread that it was too late. He hadn't been able to save the most important part; the newest dot.

"NO!" The agonized scream tore through the bar, silencing those that hadn't already stopped talking. Magic radiated from Draco, making the glasses and mugs closest to him rattle. "You have no right!" he shouted. "You filthy muggle bastard had no right to touch my map like that!." The glass beside Doug shattered, sending shards everywhere. "Now how am I supposed to find him?"

"Dray, 'm sorry. But it was just a map."

"No! It wasn't just a map. It was my way of finding Potter. I was going to find him and bring him home. And thanks to you I can't!"

More glasses shattered, as did the sconces hanging along the walls. The gas lanterns fell to the floor, most of them extinguishing before they touched down. But one rolled alone the floor to rest against the cardboard cut-out of the months features beer. With every set of eyes on the blond kneeling on the floor, no one noticed as the cut-out caught fire. Or that the flames made their way upward to lick at the football banners. The flames made their slow march across the banners and to the hanging baskets of plastic plants, unnoticed by the patrons watching the spectacle Draco was making of himself.

"Fire!" someone finally shouted just as Draco was ready to draw his wand and explode the bar, or Avada Doug, whichever seemed more satisfying.

People streamed around him, all making for the front door at the same time. They pushed and shoved at each other until one of them fell, and even then they only stopped for a moment to step over him. The door was too small for them all, and the fire was already spreading across the other rafter beams, fueled by decades of dust and old decorations. Mass panic was only a breath away. Draco sighed and pointed his wand at the door. With a muttered enlargement charm the portal grew to twice it's size and the first set of patrons spilled into the street with startled yelps.

He was roughly hauled to his feet by Mr. Fanion. "Come on Draco, we gotta get out of here."

The blonde nodded, pushing his employee out before him. Just as he set a foot across the threshold he remembered his mittens, tucked away in his coat pocket. Draco turned on his foot and darted back inside towards the back room, the frantic shouts of his boss chasing after him. The gathered smoke stung his eyes, making it hard to see. Not that he needed to; he'd been here so long that he could have navigated the bar with his eyes closed. The back of the bar was still untouched, free of smoke and the heat of flames. Rubbing at his watering eyes, Draco ran to the closet and yanked the door open. The green and gray stripes hung limp from the pocket and he pulled them free and onto his hands; he didn't want to risk losing them.

By the time he returned to the front room, the fire had spread even more. The air was thick with black smoke and it was hard to breath past the burning heat. Draco dropped onto his hands and knees, crawling towards the front door. A loud snap overhead stopped him in his tracks. He looked around, trying to figure out what the noise had been when the beam closest to the door crashed to the floor. Draco scuttled backwards like a crab, coughing violently against the cloud of dust and ash the beam had kicked up. His only exit was now blocked. His mind screamed at him to cast Aguamenti, Depulso, or even to Apparate. To do something, anything, that would save his life. But as Draco sat on the floor, trying to find a pocket of clean air to breath in, memories of the Fiendfyr came to his mind. Terror set in. Muscles locked up as his breathing picked up speed, threatening to cause him to hyperventilate. He was trapped in a room full of fire again, and this time Potter wasn't around to save him. Despair curled around Draco's heart like an iron hand, squeezing the last bit of hope out. It was final. Harry was really never coming back.

With a silent sob Draco let himself fall backwards onto the cool floor. His mind had gone fuzzy and he couldn't formulate any plan of escape. He turned to the side slightly, the movement more instinctual then a desire to live, as he began to cough again. With closed eyes he prayed to whomever was out there that his death would be swift and that he'd be in Harry's warm arms again soon.

"Draco!" A sad smile tugged at Draco's lips. He'd miss the people here. He'd miss Hadley too. She was nothing like Granger, and at the same time felt like a piece from home. "Draco..." His smile widened. It sounded like Harry. Draco tilted his head slightly to look up just as his vision blurred into blackness around the edges. "Draco..." Brilliant green eyes looked down at him, filled with love and comfort and tears. He reached a pale hand upwards to touch the face he knew so well. And then, there was nothing.

OoOoO

It felt like he was floating. Like there was nothing else but him. The brightness of heaven glared at him, making it hard to open his eyes more then a fraction of an inch at a time. Had he known it would be such a pain he would have put up more of a fight to stay alive. Then a smiling face filled his vision, and all thoughts of complaint where gone. He'd finally found him. The halo around Harry was just as pretty as Draco had imagine it would be, casting a soft glow around the man. "So you really were dead this whole time," Draco whispered, feeling just a little bit bitter.

"Erm...I'm still very much alive, Malfoy."

Draco blinked in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"I'm still alive. And so are you. You're in a hospital, Draco." Harry's head drew back and the soft halo was replaced with the harsh fluorescent bulb of a hospital light. It hurt Draco's eyes and he brought one arm up to shield them. But the movement only made his body ache and he let the arm flop back down with a low groan. Harry chuckled and reached behind himself to turn the light off. The only thing that kept the room from going completely dark was the light in the bathroom.

"I'm not dead?" Draco rasped. He struggled into a more reclined position, grunting against the pain.

Harry surged out of his chair by Draco's bedside, placing pillows behind the blondes back, and helping him shift upward against them. The moment his hand touched Draco's body it was like the appendage had a mind of it's own. It traveled along Draco's shoulder to ghost over his face, down his arm, across this chest, down the other arm, and finally rested on on top of Draco's hand where its fingers twined together with Draco's. "No. Definitely not dead."

"But how...the bar...you..." Talking hurt and Draco nodded his head at the glass of water on the small table.

Without letting go of his hand, Harry twisted around to grab the glass and handed it to Draco. He sat on the edge of the bed, thumb rubbing small circles on the others palm. "I'm a fire fighter," he began. "Our firehouse is only a block away from the bar. Someone called us pretty much right away. And the bar is gone. It was too old. There was nothing we could save."

Draco stared at the Harry before him. Something was off about the man. He sounded and acted like Potter, but when Draco looked at him closely he knew something was different. And it wasn't the fact that his hair was now short; short and under control. A pale hand reached out to cup Harry's face and turned him around until he was facing Draco dead on. "You don't wear glasses anymore."

"No. Occupational hazard. They fogged up one too many times."

"Your hair is really short."

"Yeah. Turns out it's easier to get a helmet on with short hair."

Gray eyes scanned the handsome face until he spotted the thing that made Harry seem so different now. "Your scar is gone. How?"

Harry opened his mouth and was about to answer when a nurse walked in, clip board in hand. She grinned at Draco and made her way to his bed, checking his IV and making a few notes on his chart. "Welcome back, Mr. Malfoy. How are you feeling?" Draco only grunted. The nurse nodded as if he had given her an actual answer. "You'll be hurting for the next few days. Your throat will probably be sore too; you sucked in a little bit too much smoke. Just take it easy, don't shout, and you'll be just fine." Her eyes landed on Harry and her smile faltered a little. "Visiting hours are over Harry. I'm afraid you'll have to leave now ."

Draco made a squeaking noise and his hand clenched around Harry's. He didn't want Harry to go yet. He had just found the man. As if reading Draco's mind, Harry looked at the nurse and gave her a plaintive smile. "Please Deb? Just a little longer?"

The woman made an exasperated noise but turned to leave. "Fine, fine. You get another ten minutes. But so help me Harry, if you're caught I am not saving your pretty ass again." Just before she slipped outside she stuck her head back in and smiled at Draco. "Get some rest Mr. Malfoy."

No sooner had the door clicked shut that Draco's head snapped back to look at Harry; a million questions written clearly on his face. But Harry shook his head to quiet them all. Instead he smoothed the covers over and said, "Deb's right. You need rest." Harry leaned forward to press a kiss against Draco's forehead. And while he meant to stop there, to not overwhelm Draco, his lips had other ideas. They placed light kisses on both of the blondes closed eyes, kissing a path down the bridge of his slender nose, before kissing his soft lips. Draco's heart soared and he hummed in pleasure, arching up slightly to deepen the kiss. Gods, he had missed this.

"Please. Don't leave again," Draco said when Harry finally pulled away, even as sleep tugged at him.

"Never," Harry whispered back.


End file.
